The Authors' Assault and Other Stories
by hawktakesflight
Summary: When "Authors invade the Smash Mansion", / There's bound to be plenty of tension. / Oneshots, thoughts, plot holes, / Wit, bad rhyming prose - / But flaming will get you suspension.  And now it comes free with one new "Other Story"!
1. The Authors' Assault

'Twas night at the Mansion, and all through the House  
Not a Smasher was stirring, not even the mouse.  
Their Battles were done, and they had put away  
Their swords for their rest, to fight the next day.

The Smashers were bold, an adventurous lot  
With amazing battles that no one forgot  
But one thing that sent chills down all of their spines  
Were murderous Authors with their pithy lines.

And all of a sudden, they came all at once,  
With pointed sticks and their _Deux Ex Machine_guns.  
One came out of nowhere and said with a grin  
And a twirl of his pen: "Let the Slash Wars begin!"

The Smashers stood up, weapons at the ready.  
Some were quite sleepy, and none were too steady.  
But even though they tried with all of their might  
This was an opponent they just couldn't fight.

_**So let loose the **__**Metroids and bring out the guns  
Against the Authors and their punishing puns  
Both parties struggled, to fight and defend  
Which one was mightier, the sword or the pen**_

The stories came flying like a storm of hail  
A few had ripped large holes through Toon Link's boat's sail.  
Some were quite witty, though most were less kind,  
And some had eccentric _Smash-_world/-verse design.

Bowser discovered his Clown Car was gone,  
And they couldn't save all of the Pokémon.  
They lost the Arwings and the Blue Falcon too:  
Destroyed by an Author's errant Mary Sue.

Most ducked for cover from the bad rhyming lines,  
While the forced syllables sounded just like landmines.  
Game and Watch didn't hear them, idly he sat;  
Excited Link/Marth fangirls trampled him flat.

The remaining Smashers then all took to their feet  
Or paws or boats and beat a hasty retreat.  
Zelda was whisp'ring as they dodged and ducked:  
"Well then, now we're all really royallyin deep trouble."

_**So **__**stick up your Stickers and set Handicaps  
Remove Distant Planet from all of your maps  
The Mansion's defenses all started to fail  
And everything became a tad more surreal**_

Kirby was trapped in a Truth or Dare Fic.  
Sonic was running, but sadly, he tripped.  
Pikmin were drowning in Hanenbow's water  
While Authors established their own new world order.

Most damage was dealt by the "Fics of Romance"  
The Authors' greatest and primary offense  
Even though it was found nowhere in canon  
Victims were Mewtwo/Lucario, Roy/Ganon.

The memes were sent flying, furious and fast  
Most of the Brawlers simply couldn't last.  
Defense was in tatters, but worst of all,  
A random OC just destroyed the Fourth Wall.

The Authors had started to turn on the heat  
Edging the Smashers to certain defeat  
But Falcon posed heroically and said  
"I'll be back! …uh, maybe. Somehow." and he fled.

_**So tie up the Assists and bring the Alloys,  
Authors having fun playing with **__**their toys,  
Master Hand ran out of patience and time:  
"Your actions are devoid of rhyme or reason!"**_

And then Master Hand beat the narrator senseless and took control of the narrative, abandoning the rickety rhyming structure for something more coherent and less pretentious. Giant lasers shot forth from his gloved hand, sending Authors scattering back and breaking their ranks. For a moment there, it appeared that there might be hope yet, as Master Hand swept away the Authors with practiced ease. However, he failed to note that a single Author had crept up behind his wrist, unnoticed, unseen, dug up a plot hole and fired a beam, which hit its target (or so it would seem),

Producing provocative Mario/Peach scenes.

The Hand had now fallen, by Authors was smitten  
Turning him into a rather cute kitten.  
With Master's words turning out to be hot air,  
The Smashers quickly returned to their despair.

But suddenly! with flashes blinding the eye!  
Down from above descends – him! – _Sakurai_!  
With a wave of his hand and a large puff of smoke  
Everything the Authors did, he revoked.

He turned on the Authors, who cowered in fear –  
And while the Smashers looked on, grinned and cheered –  
Banished them all, for all the world to see.  
…_'Twas said they were sent to Reality_.

_**So ban all the Items and stock up on Stock,  
Keep all of those fanboys under key and lock.  
They prayed to Sakurai, Smashers big and small,  
And promised to go on strike come **_**Smash Bros 4**_**.**_

:::...:::...:::...:::...:::...:::...:::...:::...:::...:::...:::

Hello. How have you been? It's been some time, hasn't it? -

This is to be read with a pinch of salt. I have no stance on pairings, and am not a fan of romance fics to begin with. I am, however, a fan of sarcastic parody, and will try to hone my skills in that direction. The _Deus Ex Machine_gun pun originated from **sakuragawa**, who used it in a memorable Death Note parody fic _The Black Hole Sue of DOOM, _involving Black Holes, Sues, and doom. This fic will be a collection of oneshots, experiments, random ideas and short storylines (not necessarily in that order). And as always, constructive criticism is always welcomed, more so than ever.

At the same time, those who like a more seriouz tone to their online readings, please feel free to head over to _Smile_ for some of **lupyne**'s awesome work on a collaboration we're doing together. Your feedback and brilliant theories will be very much appreciated! A link to the story and **lupyne**'s profile and deviantART can be found on my profile page.

hawk


	2. Brawl for Leisure

**Scribbled down on a scrap of paper in an hour. ****I promise the next one will be slightly more uplifting. It's been a bad week. ****Nonetheless, please enjoy.**

**hawk**

Brawl for Leisure

Today is a dull day with boredom stirring in the clouds. They move menacingly across the Mansion's sky, slowly swallowing everything into their dark shadows. But today I can't care, or I won't.

…am I depressed.

I'm surrounded by a group of idiots, sociopaths or unbelievably naïve characters you won't believe. It's a pain to wake up every morning here knowing I'll see that disgusting face or the same moronic grin and have to plaster a plastic smile back on my face.

I throw the second half of my sandwich into my mouth. Might have been my third, but who's counting? I binge when I'm depressed, and today I could eat anything.

Nobody here speaks my language, or even bothers to try. They're wrapped up in petty insecurities like the next match or the next date or trying to hit on Samus when she's not actively destroying an opponent. Shallow. I pray I'll never stoop so low.

I brush crumbs off my face with the back of my hand. It's too late, isn't it? I've become what I've hated, stooped down to the level of these fellow morons, so-called "heroes" and "kings". Pah.

Sold out, didn't I? Signed a contract, didn't I? Obviously must have been drunk at the time; which happens more often than I care to admit.

I feel dirty, used. Kind of like when you realize that what you thought was alright – okay – turned out to be a very, very, _very _bad decision. The feeling keeps on gnawing away at your insides. Sure, you might not have _actually_ done anything wrong, but the ache-twinge just keeps growing and growing until you feel like you're about to explode with nervous energy.

With a sigh, my practiced hands set to work in making another sandwich. Bread, spread, bread. Hm. Might as well add in a steak while I'm at it. At the rate I've been eating, I've pretty much given up on my figure.

Footsteps down the hallway. My early warning system. I quickly hitch a plastic smile on my face the way one hitches up a Halloween mask, the action done more out of ingrained habit than anything else.

"Heyy there, cutie ~" Peach Toadstool sashays into the little pantry in a flurry of dress and lace and pink. She has this extraordinary ability to wear pink around her like it's a perfume; I swear the light around her grows a little tinted with the colour.

Her boyfriend knows that I'm not the most keen with the Brawls here, but that's all he knows. And she either has never asked or he has never told. She prattles on about the upcoming Brawl teaming – "don't be late, okayy?"- herself visibly excited about the whole thing.

I nod, still smiling.

She pats me on the head – I hate that – and sweetly waves goodbye.

"See you, Kirby!" She winks and twirls out of the room in a twinkle and flurry of pink. I wave a hand weakly to wave, but she was gone from my sight, her dwindling steps echoing daintily down the corridor outside.

I sigh again, all fire gone. Not even the pointless anger at no one in particular. All that's left is the gray monotony of depression, humming in tune to the clouds that drift across the sky.

My sandwich lies abandoned on the counter.


End file.
